


strawberry sweet (baby what's good)

by fateline (orphan_account)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, aka the sfw mh abo au!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 15:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fateline
Summary: Donghyuck goes into heat, and is a mess. Mark was just always a mess in the first place.





	strawberry sweet (baby what's good)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlimeQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/gifts).



> for manaal and her cc anon who left the [prompt](https://curiouscat.me/slimequeen/post/453945887?1525489886); i hope i was able to do it some justice! <3

 

 

Mark keeps a running list of pros and cons to dorm life in his head.

It starts as some last dredge effort when he was still trying to adjust to Korea all those years ago, just newly off the plane from Canada and finding this alien place with a familiar language just utterly different from what he’d expected.

There’s a lot Mark misses, even to this day - the lack of his mother’s honey and lemon scent, his father’s, a mix of some warm spices that Mark has never been able to put a name to, and the culture’s customs are so lost on him at first. It was a way of passing time, it gave some way of making sense of the world around him, at least.

Suffice to say, it’s since blown up into a full blown essay with an appendix: See section 3.7a for sleeping habits of the members.

(Note: It’s not like Mark really tries to keep an eye out on things like this, but sometimes you need to know who’s up before you on a regular basis so you’d know who’s raiding _your_ food stash that you bought with your _own_ money.)

(It’s usually Donghyuck.)

Doyoung, Johnny, and Donghyuck are usually wandering around and banging into things in the dorm by the time Mark wakes up or is woken up by the racket - Jaehyun, Taeyong, and Taeil usually stumble in after within thirty minutes, anyway. There’s obviously exceptions when everyone’s tired out of their minds, but it stands true for the most part.

It’s useless information for the most part too, except Mark’s been waiting for Donghyuck to get up for the past half hour; they’re all more or less ready to leave for lessons and there is no indication whatsoever that Donghyuck’s going to be making his grand appearance any time soon.

Practice was exhausting for everyone involved last night - they’d run the sequence until one in the morning. Donghyuck was really irritable yesterday too, Mark figures it’s not a problem if he lets Donghyuck sleep in a bit, and Donghyuck’s already chewed him out for waking him up too early in the past, but this is getting ridiculous.

“Is Donghyuck still in the room?” Mark asks Jaehyun, just in case, stretching and righting himself from the slouch he’s been doing on the couch.

“His royal blanket burrito highness was right there when I got up,” Jaehyun says around a mouthful of eggs. Mark wrinkles his nose.

“I’ll go wake him up.”

Jaehyun nods sagely. “Good luck. Come back in one piece!”

Mark holds back a sigh. It’s not a secret - for that matter, there’s not many secrets that can be kept in a nine-boy dorm - that there’s always a fifty-fifty chance that you’ll come out unscathed in the aftermath of waking up Donghyuck before he deems himself ready, and the odds are only in your favour if you happen to be Mark Lee.

Taeyong walks into the kitchen then, and wisely, no one brings up the little stint last week when Taeyong had gone to shake Donghyuck awake. Donghyuck had poked his head exactly a millimeter out of his fort of blankets that he habitually curls himself in, declared that Taeyong smells absolutely disgusting this fine morning, and promptly fallen back asleep.

It takes Johnny to save Taeyong from his little crisis of whether he actually smells okay or not, and Mark’s sent in to do damage control and get Donghyuck to apologize - it’s one of the little perks (or punishments, Mark thinks) of being in the tenuous space of being someone that sort of has a thing with Donghyuck, but at the same time, they’re not a _thing._

Mark makes his way to Donghyuck and Jaehyun’s room slowly, hesitantly brings up a hand to rap on the door shortly. There’s no response. He tries again, harder.

When there’s nothing again, Mark pushes the door open - Donghyuck can’t hound him for intruding on his privacy if Donghyuck Doesn’t Open the Goddamn Door and they all need to go, like, now.

The first thing that Mark knows, or really, registers after opening the door is that he takes one step forward and all of a sudden he’s assaulted by this wall of sickly sweet scent of strawberries and a faint undertone of burnt sugar that’s absolutely overpowering.

“God.” Mark sucks in a breath, and regrets when he almost chokes. “You smell so bad, oh my god. Did you just get your heat this morning?”

Donghyuck peeks out from his blanket fort. “What,” he says, sounding so disgruntled but the slow way he’s squinting makes Mark want to reach and coo over him. “I thought you said I smelled good before?”

“No! No, I meant like, you smell really badly. Like!” Mark backpedals, heart skipping a beat before he realizes Donghyuck’s laughing at him under his breath. “I’m just trying to say it smells like someone dumped a truckload of strawberries and sugar in here and then dumped a few more just for the sake of it.”

Donghyuck nods, and his hair sticks to the blankets in a way that washes out the angles Mark is used to seeing throughout the day; it makes him look so much softer, gentler. Sweeter, if that’s possible even. “Oh, so you’re saying it’s too much of a good thing? I’m too good for you?”

Mark is going to bash his head against the wall just about now. He ignored Donghyuck - if you feed his ego there is no end to it - and makes his way over to the window, throwing it open to air the room out. “Too good at annoying the fuck out of me,” he mutters under his breath.

The blankets rustle behind him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, you should get up,” Mark says, turning around finally. Donghyuck makes an attempt to get up and aborts it basically immediately. “We’ve gotta leave for dance practice in ten minutes.”

Donghyuck moans. “Dance practice is going to be hell. Oh god. I can’t move.”

Mark raises an eyebrow. He makes his way over to the edge of Donghyuck’s bed, feeling vindictively pleased when Donghyuck automatically wriggles a bit give Mark enough room to sit comfortably on the bed even when he says he can’t move. “Everyone’s up already.”

“Yeah? Carry me.”

Mark laughs. Donghyuck’s mirroring his eyebrow raise - it’s a habit he’s picked up recently and Mark doesn’t dare tell him it just makes him look so much cuter out of fear that Donghyuck would specifically not do it just to spite Mark. “Come and eat.”

“Does it look like I care?” Donghyuck shoves Mark - it’s sort of unexpected so he goes pitching forward a little, and Donghyuck’s arm ends up around his waist.

Mark laughs. “You need food to move. Maybe that’s why you can’t move right now.”

Donghyuck pouts. “Is the food going to make the heat go away? Because if so, you can bring me my breakfast now, thanks.”

Mark’s hands itch. He clenches and unclenches them, feels his nails bite into his palms.

It’s such a bad idea. For the record, Mark calls it himself first.

Donghyuck’s the type of person who’ll take what Mark is willing to give him and run off with it - if Mark lets even a centimeter go Donghyuck’s going to be right in the space pushing for a meter. But, it’s just, Donghyuck looks so soft and iridescent in the morning light slanting through the window that settles itself in glowing strips over his skin. The way he’s pursing his lips shouldn’t be legal.

Mark sighs and shifts closer under he’s pressing his hand against Donghyuck’s forehead. He feels feverish, but that’s just part of the heat rushing under his skin, making him tired and irritable and clingier - it’s one of the downsides to being an omega, even if alphas are genetically conditioned to want to drop everything to please them when they’re in this state.

Mark still doesn’t like it - Donghyuck always falls sick easier when he’s practicing through his heat, but sometimes comeback schedules don’t let them do anything else. He threads his hand through Donghyuck’s hair, feels a thrill run down his spine when Donghyuck nuzzles himself into the touch.

Donghyuck whines again when Mark slows for a second. “Hyung, can you like, scratch a bit higher up?”

Mark bites his lip. He figures he can indulge Donghyuck for now - or the next five minutes at least, and worry about the rest later.

He blames it on fate and genetics.

 

~

 

Mark manages to wrestle Donghyuck into sitting and dressing, and finally hounds him out of his room in record time - they’re late, granted, since it’s sorta of hard to stop petting Donghyuck when he doesn’t want you to stop, but. Mark manages somehow.

“Apple?” Mark tosses one to Donghyuck before he responds. Donghyuck’s not a huge fan of them, Mark knows, but he likes to think he can influence Donghyuck to make _some_ healthy choices in life.

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose, hands it back to Mark like it’s burning. “Not hungry.”

“You’re going to be hungry,” Mark grouses. He slips it in Donghyuck’s bag, who gives him a dirty look as Mark’s doing it, but he doesn’t do anything to stop him.

 

~

 

Donghyuck takes the apple and bites into it after dance practice, whining about how he’s so hungry he’s ready to eat his own goddamn shoe which, by the way, is digusting, so Mark counts it as a win.

 

~

 

The thing about heats which Mark knows Donghyuck hates the most, without a doubt, is the stares he gets in the streets when they smell him walking around.

At this point, it’s habit for Mark to shrug off his jacket or sweater and drape it around Donghyuck or slip it over his head - Donghyuck always blinks at Mark with wide eyes and huddles himself deeper into Mark’s clothing if that’s a thing - it deters some of the scandalized looks that they get outside.

Donghyuck hates it at first, shrugs off all attempts that Mark makes to get the stares and the whispers off him. Mark’s pretty sure he still hates it with a passion but the comments they used to get really wears after a while.

These days, he reaches out for Mark’s clothes himself when Mark’s too slow to offer, and it always fills Mark with some sort of thrill, knowing that Donghyuck’s walking around in what’s Mark’s, and everyone knows that Donghyuck, in extension is Mark’s on some level - friends, fellow idols, groupmates, and if Mark really lets himself believe, he can still hear Donghyuck laughing and saying soulmates.

(It’s not a thought that he likes to follow too deeply because then he wonders - why does he think that way? And he’s not sure if he can or wants to answer that.)

“Do you think people realize it’s the twenty first century?” Donghyuck asks. They’re waiting in the cafe next door to the building where the dance practice rooms are located and there’s this businesswoman, looking to be in her thirties, taking glances at Donghyuck every few seconds and making of show of being scandalized when they think he’s not watching.

Mark shuffles a bit closer, until his arm’s brushing against Donghyuck’s. There’s still generations out there accustomed to omegas staying home during heats because it’s brutal on their system (and immune system at that) but work always demands and more often than not these days, people can’t help having to go out through it. “She didn’t get the memo, I guess?”

Donghyuck snorts. “She’s not fashionably late to the party, she’s just super fucking late. It’s not like I can stop being an idol when I’m on my goddamn heat.”

“I can drop her the memo, if you want?” Mark twists around to shoot the lady another cutting glance, but she’s looking down at her iced americano, her other manicured hand wrapped around her iPhone.

Donghyuck leans into Mark. He’s playing with Mark’s fingers, and the ring that Mark’s decided to wear as a last minute decision in the morning. “Nah. It's not worth.”

You’re always worth it, Mark wants to say, but he bites his lips instead. They’ve been over this before. “You still shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I really shouldn’t,” Donghyuck agrees snidely, “but you don’t need to fight my battles for me, ok? It’s not like I’m disabled.”

Mark remembers a certain someone complaining about not being able to move and wanting to be carried that morning, but he does value his personal safety, so he keeps his mouth tightly sealed on that matter. Fourteen year-old Mark might have made that mistake, but today’s Mark is a changed man. For the better, hopefully.

The barista calls out their order then - Donghyuck had been craving something sweet, so it’s some fancy ass sounding fruit tea drink, and Mark had just opted for a coffee.

Mark slips his hand out of Donghyuck’s, feels Donghyuck’s grab for his hand again and stopping short, and the small little gesture makes him feel so guilty. “Be right back, ok?”

Donghyuck nods shortly. He looks so small shrinking into Mark’s jacket.

Mark picks up his pace, hurrying to the counter and showing the receipt before making a beeline for Donghyuck who’s already moved to the door.

“I want,” Donghyuck starts, hands out waiting for the drink. Mark lets him grab it. “I want suppressants.”

That’s definitely not the direction Mark expected that sentence to go, but at the same time, Donghyuck’s definitely brought up the idea on multiple occasions already. It’s just - it’s always the same way to turn it down. Mark’s tired - he knows heats are taxing, thankfully not from experience, but, “You’re not eighteen yet.”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “I’m almost eighteen!”

Mark ruffles Donghyuck’s hair in just the way that he knows Donghyuck hates. He says it messes up his aesthetic, or something. “You’re a solid year away. Suppressants fuck with your system when you’re still developing.”

“I just,” Donghyuck says, taking a sip of his drink angrily, “I don’t like being this giant ‘notice me’ sign every time I walk around to and back from practice to the dorms. Everyone always acts so extreme. Taeyong-hyung won’t stop feeding me and the vocal teachers always get so pissy since my voice likes to fuck itself up during my heats.”

This, Mark knows: it’s all Donghyuck really complains about for every heat he’s had in the past year or so. The feeling, Mark’s not a stranger to either - of not feeling like yourself for days on end and having everyone around you treat you differently - he’s got his own ruts to worry about, of course.

There’s not much Mark can do to offer reassurance, other than, “I’m sure management will start you on suppressants as soon as your birthday passes.” It’s not ideal since it’s probably not healthy, but there’s not much about their lifestyle of sleeping halfway into the night and waking up a few hours later that’s that healthy at all.

Donghyuck takes another petulant sip. “They’d better. I hate feeling like a truck’s run me over but get this - truck’s also got a monthly I-Gotta-Make-Donghyuck’s-Life-Miserable schedule.”

Mark snorts.

“Everyone’s been getting so touchy with seeing omegas in public too since some asshat released the,” Donghyuck scratches the back of his head, “Fifty Scents of Grey thing? Isn’t it weird, like, people have nut busting fantasies about goddamn heats?”

Oh. Fuck. That. Mark hastily brings his coffee up to take a sip and hopes the way he tenses isn’t obvious - he wishes the words had never come out of Donghyuck’s mouth because it just sounds wrong. Donghyuck’s sort of right though. The general public reaction to omegas and heats definitely didn’t take a turn for the better from how it’s consistently portrayed in media. Donghyuck’s probably feeling that.

“They’re,” Mark chews the rim of the paper cup. “Creative, I guess?”

Donghyuck leers. “You read it then?”

Mark runs a hand over his face in despair. “Man. Fuck you, I looked through a whole pages before I realized what the fuck it was about.”

“It takes you a few whole pages to realize that it’s porn? I thought you’d figure out as soon as you see the word ‘dick’,” Donghyuck says. He’s snickering. Mark’s mind is literally a white haze right now.

“It looked so normal at the beginning, okay? I thought it was a mystery or something!”

“Mark-hyung.” Donghyuck looks at him like he’s just announced he doesn’t have any brain cells - sort of vindicated but so so done with him. “Only you could - oh my god. Okay. Seriously, stop looking so pale, I was joking! I read it for fun. Like, you don’t have to look so scandalized.”

“Where the fuck would you be able to read it?”

“Where do you think Jaehyun’s copy went?”

Mark stops short. “It was you?”

“It’s so fucking dumb, oh my god. And the book too, I dunno why Jaehyun even bothered with it,” Donghyuck barrels on, rolling his eyes. Mark really, really is simultaneously in awe of Donghyuck’s ability to pretend nothing’s awkward and wanting him to just stop. “The omega girl, she was like--”

“I don’t need to know,” Mark whines. They turn right at the street leading to the dorms.

Donghyuck holds a hand up, face tilted up and catching the sun; Mark can feel a headache coming on. “--Oh, _alpha_! I need you,” he moans in this pitchy and annoying falsetto, but Mark feels his stomach twist and his mouth go dry against his will, fuck, think about the dance instructor’s disappointed face, kicked puppies--

Donghyuck’s prattling on, but the rest is absolutely lost on Mark.

“I guess people sexualize it because heats make everyone want to take care of omegas? And they extrapolate from there?” Mark says, swallowing after he finds his voice again.

Donghyuck turns around from where he’s several steps ahead of Mark and stares at him funny. “Were you even listening to anything I said?”

Mark blinks. The truth would work here: “No?”

Donghyuck looks up at the sky pleadingly, like he’s looking for something. “Why do I put up with you?”

Donghyuck shoves him into the wall, shoots Mark a grin, and takes off.

 

~

 

(Mark catches up to Donghyuck at the bottom of the building, catching him in a headlock. Donghyuck’s panting, looking generally pretty rough for wear. This close, Mark can smell the strawberries and spun sugar in the air; it’s not as strong as this morning, since they’re out in the open, but it’s an effort to resist burying his nose in Donghyuck’s neck and that would just be--

Weird.

“I regret. I regret everything. I regret life. I’m never running on my heat again, oh my god,” Donghyuck’s heaving.)

 

~

 

Donghyuck leaves for vocal lessons half an hour later.

Free time is generally a luxury that Mark can’t afford, and honestly, he’s not sure if this block can even really be called as such since it’s just an hour or so before he’s got to make it back in time for the evening rap coaching. He does take what he can get though - Mark dumps his dance practice bag in the dorm before going out for a stroll in the area.

It’s in the middle of the day and there’s people bustling to and fro, searching for their next destination, never stopping.

Mark’s walking by one of the bakeries down the street from their dorm when he spots the filled pastries sitting in the glass display window. It’s cute, he supposes - he’s never had much of a sweet tooth but Donghyuck loves them - or loves poking fun at the different flavours, at any rate.

(“Fuck off,” Donghyuck drawls. “I can make fun of them all I like, ok? It’s how I cope with the fact that Manager-hyung will have my ass if I ever try one.”)

Mark understands perfectly what the managers are going after - but they’re not the ones watching Donghyuck glance longingly at the food on the table and look so guilty when the other members catch him. The chin digging into Mark’s shoulder has been more bone than flesh these couple months, and it hurts to watch.

It’s one heat. It can’t hurt, Mark thinks, pushing open the doors to the bakery.

Mark buys half a dozen pastries and sets it on his bed when he gets home - it's a sacred place, honestly. No one’s going to take from there, but just in case he throws the blanket over top.

 

~

 

Lessons pass by in what seems like between one blink of an eye and another - Mark gets home to Donghyuck sprawled on the couch, taking up as much room as he physically can. He’s on Johnny’s lap, the latter of whom gives Mark a help-me-right-now-you-fucker glance when he walks into the room. The small space is fully infused with the heady scent of strawberry and sugar once again - no one's done any airing apparently, or at least properly, and there's the faint trace of Johnny's pine scent underneath that Mark can barely make out.

“What happened?” he asks.

Johnny looks down helplessly at the unmoving lump draped over him, who whines upon being addressed. Mark gives him a sympathetic glance, resisting the urge to rub his eyes - his contacts are bothering him and he wants to change into comfortable clothes. Johnny’s going to have to hold out for a few minutes longer.

He makes a quick trip to the washroom, takes out his contacts for glasses, and switches out his dress shirt for sweats and an old t-shirt. He makes a small detour to his room though - picks up his notebook and the bag of pastries.

For everyone’s sake, Mark hopes the vocal lessons went well so that everyone survives with no skin off their back. The thing is: Donghyuck is already so good. Mark doesn’t really give a shit what people say about the techniques so long as Donghyuck doesn’t fuck his voice up, and Mark really hopes the vocal trainer went easy on him since he knows how bad Donghyuck's mood can get on his heat.

Mark comes back to the living room to Donghyuck having shifted. He’s peeking balefully out from under his fringe of hair, eyeing the bag in Mark’s hands suspiciously. Mark beckons him over.

“No,” Donghyuck says. He pouts.

“I have food?” Mark tries, lifting up the bag and shaking it a bit. He feels like he’s talking to a petulant child or a puppy but Donghyuck even manages to make that cute, which really, just isn’t fair.

“No.” Donghyuck glares and turns his head away. “I’m not falling for that.”

Mark can’t help laughing at that. He takes a seat next to Johnny on the couch, holds Donghyuck’s head and shifts it to his lap to let Johnny out. He peers down at Donghyuck - he looks funny upside down. It’s not an angle Mark sees that often, to be honest.

“You’re a big baby,” he says, feeling the heat radiate off Donghyuck like a furnace, but it’s pleasant. It’s a pleasant weight, a reminder.

“Not a baby. And stop looking up my nose,” Donghyuck says. He sticks a hand in Mark’s face, who sputters and turns away. “Stop taking advantage of me when I can’t fight back.”

Mark’s not sure what exactly it is that makes him say it - the way they’re tangled together so languidly on a weekend night, and Donghyuck’s weight and warmth is making him want to melt into the couch, or if it’s just because his mouth took off running: “Baby, I think you’re still in pretty good able-to-punch distance.”

Donghyuck turns red, opening and closing his mouth without saying anything, and Mark feels high off the thrill of getting away with it.

“You’re a dumbass,” Donghyuck says at last. “Just give me the food.” He does it himself though - reaches over Mark’s side and grabs the bag. He takes one out carefully, taking a careful nibble before deeming it good enough to shove in his mouth.

“Careful, there’s crumbs.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give any indication he’s heard. Mark sighs and flips open his notebook, pushing his slipping glasses further up his nose. Donghyuck pauses suddenly in Mark’s lap - Mark looks down in confusion.

“Did you have any yet?” Donghyuck asks, gesturing with the half eaten piece of bread, crumbs now falling everywhere.

Mark dusts it off roughly. “No. You know I don’t like sweets that much though.” He’s sort of hungry, but Donghyuck is right there on his lap and he doesn’t have the heart to shift yet. Maybe when his legs start screaming in an hour or so, but for now - it’s okay.

Donghyuck grabs one out of the bag and holds it in front of Mark’s face. “Say ‘ahh’,” he says. Mark blinks. He’s going cross-eyed, but Donghyuck looks just so serious so he complies. Donghyuck basically shoves it in his mouth. Mark grabs the end with one hand, swatting Donghyuck’s hand away. “You eat funny.”

Mark chews, holds up his hand to let Donghyuck know he has something to say. Swallows (some minutes later, no thanks to Donghyuck trying to stuff his face). “No thanks to you.”

Donghyuck peers into Mark’s face carefully. Apparently he finds something he likes, because he heaves himself up until he’s sitting briefly, and plants a soft kiss on Mark’s cheek. Mark brings a hand up to his cheek, eyes widened at Donghyuck incredulously - it’s not like he’s not used to Donghyuck trying to kiss him out of the blue after living with him for years but it always sends his heart into a mad and confused race.

“What was that..?”

Donghyuck drops himself back into Mark’s lap, right on top of his notebook. “You looked cute,” he says, like that’s an explanation and not something that just makes Mark more confused. He launches into a play by play vocal reenactment of everything that went wrong today, according to one Lee Donghyuck, and Mark’s only half listening again at this point but.

It’s cute watching Donghyuck get so into the stories he tells. He insists, cutely, on sitting up so he can get the tell the story in the most accurate way, which is still pretty cute, and at this point--

Donghyuck’s just. Cute in general, maybe.

“Today wasn’t very fun,” Donghyuck says, when Mark finds himself back in the land of the functionally living.

“We haven’t had the chance to have fun in a long time,” Mark agrees. He’s not too sure where Donghyuck’s going with this. Donghyuck has this look in his eyes though - Mark is pretty sure he won’t particularly love where it’s going to go.

“After MuBank next week, we should sneak into a movie theatre. Did you know they’re playing Fifty Scents of Grey?”

Mark drops his head, defeated, on Donghyuck’s shoulder. “We are not. Going to see an adult movie because you think it’ll be fun to sneak into a theatre.”

“Oh?” There’s something gleeful in Donghyuck’s voice. Mark dreaddread _dreads_. “So the only problem you have is that it’s adult? We can go see,” he says, dropping his voice conspiratorially, “the non-adult ones.”

Something terrible occurs to Mark. He slowly lifts his head from Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Have you been on about Fifty Scents of Grey _all day_ just to coerce me into watching a random movie with you?”

Donghyuck smiles too brightly. Mark really doesn’t know what he’s going to be doing with Donghyuck - it’s a whole headache worthy of headaches.

“But anyway! It’s set then? You promise right? We’ll go watch something?”

Mark shakes his head in disbelief. “Sure, yeah. I guess, if it’s something that won’t screw up our image if people do realize it’s us.”

Donghyuck beams, brighter this time than just a few seconds before, before going off about how shitty vocal lessons were again - he falls asleep against Mark sometime between his fourth and fifth anecdote, sentence trailing off into a yawn, eyes fluttering closed.

Mark runs a hand through Donghyuck’s hair, eases the flyaway strands of hair back in place.

He presses a soft kiss on Donghyuck’s cheek, and goes to fetch a blanket.

  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm a little nervous about this one so please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed hehe <3


End file.
